The Eyes of the Law
by RedandBlack24601
Summary: Inspector Javert was once nothing more than a boy. A regular participant in fist-fights and hopelessly in love with a beautiful girl. But nature has a way of turning the warmest hearts to stone, and Javert was not immune.
1. The Gamin

_This is my first Les Miserables fanfiction. I sincerely hope you enjoy. I do not own Les Miserables, that honour is Victor Hugo's. _

**Chapter 1**

_**The Gamin**_

The urchin boy danced through the streets on his tiny nimble legs, a dark mop of shaggy hair flopping into his eyes. The crowds drifted aside for him, well used to the little gamin, always under everybody's feet. The ones that knew him loved him, that adorable good-as-homeless child, whose father was serving a life sentence. And who couldn't? Eyes that gleamed with merriment, a charming air of mischief about him, but such kindness that made you wish you had him by your side when you were lonely.

"Bonjour, Henri!" several friendly and familiar voices called to him, shooting him swift smiles "Keep out of trouble now!" Henri just grinned, promising nothing, and scampered off, eager to meet his friends.

The other children of the streets cried out with joy when the saw him. "Henri! Where have you been? We've been waiting ages!" The little boy smiled his cheeky smile and produced a handful of apples from the deep pockets of his coat.

"Apples, Henri!" gasped Helene, a petite brunette who could reduce Henri to a blushing mess with a mere glance "You clever devil, you! However did you manage to get so many?" Henri's smile inflated along with his ego as he replied "I waited until our dear Monsieur Gourmand turned his back and then I filled my pockets with his precious apples. Ah, he yelled at me all the way down the street, but he is too fat to chase me!" His friends chuckled a little at the tale, each helping himself to a piece of the fruit.

"You were lucky there wasn't a policeman nearby!" Helene fretted.

"I could outrun any policeman!" scoffed Henri "They would be choking on the dust I kicked up from the road!"

"No, Henri," came a flat and scornful voice from the back of the group "They would catch you before you could run across the street and they would arrest you and have you hanged as a thief. Or they'd send you to the galleys with your no-good Papa!" The speaker was a little boy called Philippe, Henri's number one competitor as far as popularity went. The two urchins despised each other with every fibre of their being, though the childish hatred was quickly forgotten as soon as they were confronted by a common enemy. At Philippe's comment, Henri's little body visibly tensed, and his hands clenched into fists.

"Don't say a word against my Papa!" he hissed, in a deadly dangerous undertone "My Papa's a better man than yours!"

"Oh, yeah? Then why is he in the galleys? And your Mama, she's a filthy gypsy!"

"Hush now, Philippe!" Helene warned angrily, but the admonishment came too late. Henri had plucked an apple from his pocket and lobbed it at Philippe's head, hitting him hard enough to leave a large red mark. Then he sprang, knocking Philippe to the ground, raking his face with his nails, clobbering him with his fists, leaving great bloody gashes wherever he touched.

"You shut your mouth!" he howled "Your mother's nothing but a whore anyway!"

Verbal insults and punches flew back and forth, as the two boys crashed into alley walls, tumbled out onto the main street, knocked over carts and sent passer-by sprawling. It was a full scale brawl, the likes of which that quiet area of town had not seen for many a year. And Henri was winning. Just as the furious Henri looked ready to tear Philippe's throat out, he was seized by the collar and lifted clean off the ground, his feet kicking wildly in the air.

"Lemme go!" Henri cried wildly, his bloody hands clawing at empty air "Lemme at him!" His captor gave him a thorough shaking and swung him around so they were looking eye to eye. It was a policeman, tall, broad and intimidating. Not one that Henri knew from hanging around the galleys. The little urchin was aware of all eyes on him, not just those of his friends, but those of complete strangers also. He blushed red from shame.

"Let me go!" he barked again, clenching his jaw and aiming a solid kick at the officer's legs.

"That's Monsieur to you, brat!" returned the officer, rattling Henri again "Now, I want you to listen to me very carefully. I haven't seen you before and I hope I never have to see you again, but I've seen your kind before. No good street brats who devote their time to stealing and idleness. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, they end up serving life before they're twenty. So you just watch your step. Toe the line and keep your nose to the grindstone and you might just make an honest man out of yourself. A little gamin like you will be eaten up in those galleys. Maybe you might just think about doing some honest work, you hear me?" He fished in Henri's pockets and withdrew a couple of apples.

"I bought those!" Henri proclaimed indignantly. The officer wasn't fooled.

"You heed my words, boy, or I'll be leading you away in cuffs in a few years!" He gave Henri one final shake for emphasis, threw him roughly in the gutter and marched off, dusting off his hands as if Henri might have contaminated them.

Shaken, bruised and trembling, Henri was immediately surrounded by a cluster of his friends, all offering their sympathies, accompanied by words of extreme hatred for that nameless officer who had treated Henri so cruelly and unjustly.

"It's all right, Henri," Helene murmured "Those policemen think they run this town! Pay them no mind." But Henri wasn't listening to them.

"God damn them!" he sobbed, scrubbing away the tears from his cheeks with his fists. "God damn _him_!" And, head bent low to hide his tearstained face, he burst free from the group and ran helter-skelter down the road.


	2. Accepted at the Galleys

"Helene! Helene! Have you heard the news?" No matter how high he rose in the world, it was always back to his childhood friend that Henri came racing when he was excited.

Helene leapt to her feet to embrace him and as he enfolded her in his lanky arms, Henri could feel her prominent collarbones pressing into his chest. He rested his head against her crown and inhaled deeply. She smelled nice, beneath the dirt. Familiar. Like Helene.

"Ten francs an hour, handsome!" a hoarse-voiced older lady called. She had been observing them intently since Henri had first arrived, her beady eagle eyes watching their every move. Helene sighed in irritation and pulled them away into an alley, where they would have more privacy. Henri suddenly felt very ashamed of his only-slightly-shabby jacket and newly-shined shoes as he saw her unconsciously pull her threadbare shawl tighter around her shoulders.

"So," she asked, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket with a cocky smile and drawing him closer "What's your news?"

"They've decided to take me on!" he beamed despite himself "The Toulon galleys! As a prison guard! It took them forever to make up their minds, but I wrote a few letters, scraped up enough money to get some nice clothes, talked to the right people and they said yes!"

"Oh, Henri!" she cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the cheek "I'm so proud of you!" Henri laughed.

"You are the only one that still calls me Henri, you know," he remarked lightly, wrapping one arm around her waist and caressing her hollow cheek. She stepped back.

"Ah, of course, M'sieur Javert," she said in mock-seriousness with a stiff bow. As she did so, her shawl slipped from one shoulder, revealing an arm so thin and bony it looked as if it could be snapped with a mere tweak of the fingers. He bit his lip.

"How are you, Helene?" he asked uncomfortably, running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, you know," she dismissed the question with a nonchalant wave of her hand "Same old, same old."

Despite the fact that they were the best of friends, Helene would never burden him with accounts of the cold, the hunger or the shame, knowing it would eat him up inside. Because of this, he never knew what to say to her. He couldn't ramble on about his life, for fear he would sound arrogant and she refused to talk about hers. Often their time together was spent snuggled against the alley wall, cradled in each other's arms. Despite his protests, Helene would never take his money.

"I want our time together to be special, not like every other time someone comes to see me. Please don't try to pay me. And I know you can't afford it." Hating himself with every fibre of his being, Henri had complied.

"You know," she murmured at him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him to the ground "We're not going to be able to see each other anymore. If anyone were to see a prison guard wandering around this part of town, especially one in such a precarious position as you…well…it wouldn't turn out too well."

"I know." Henri combed a hand through his hair, still shaggy and black, just a little cleaner "I don't know what to do. You know what? Maybe I shouldn't take the job. It's not worth sacrificing my friendship with you. It's just, if I don't, I'm going to have a less…savoury position in the galleys within a few years anyway." He sighed in confusion and buried his head in his arms.

"I'm not suggesting you don't take the job, Henri," Helene exhaled in a little laugh, as if at his stupidity "Take it. Take it and live your life. Just promise me one thing."

"Anything." Henri replied eagerly; keen to prove his friendship "Anything at all."

"Don't become like the others." And with that command, she fell asleep, her thin fingers intertwined with his, safe in the arms of the boy she trusted with her life.

He kissed her hollow cheek tenderly and held her closer.

"Don't you fret, Helene," he whispered "I won't."

He watched her sleep for well over an hour, even giving her his jacket and gloves when she shivered. He paid Helene's manager twenty francs to let her rest. When she awoke, he held her for a good hour more, scaring off a potential customer who came skulking around, a feat which cost him another twenty francs. He was scraping the bottom of his money-bag for that amount. He didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. When night fell, however, Helene insisted he leave.

"I know you've been giving them money so I could rest," she told him reprovingly "Don't you worry, I'm going to pay you back as soon as it can."

"No!" Henri insisted "I'd pay a hundred francs or more if it meant I could spend more time with you!"

"It's no good you hanging around any longer," she insisted, using both hands to shove him from the alley "I'll see you soon, okay. Real soon." Henri could feel her watching his retreating figure and at the corner, he turned to give her a half smile and a wave. A mere stick-figure in the dark, she waved back at him, then turned and walked in the other direction, where a tall man was already waiting for her.

* * *

Henri couldn't sleep that night. He tossed and turned on his hard mattress, hating the way he had left things with Helene. His roommate, Etienne, was sound asleep, his fingertips brushing the wooden floorboards, his mouth open wide. Henri watched him for a while, fiddling with the buttons on his jacket, which he hadn't taken off even for bed.

"I'm going to be a prison guard," he muttered to himself under his breath. Even after weeks to get used to the idea, the words still sounded strange. "I'm going to be a prison guard."

"What are you mumbling about?" Etienne, always a light sleeper, groaned, stirring restlessly.

"Nothing at all, Etienne," Henri replied innocently "Just talking to myself."

"Is this about your girlfriend?" he asked, rolling onto his back. Etienne was one of the few that knew of Helene's existence, but had been sworn to secrecy on pain of death. "Forget about her. You can't keep thinking about her, much less keep visiting that place. Just focus on getting and keeping this job. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Understand?"

"Yes, Mama." Henri griped, rolling his eyes and tossing over. Etienne let out his first truly sympathetic noise all night.

"Listen, Henri. I understand how you feel. But get yourself a hardworking, honest girl and this whole Helene thing will blow over in a week or two, tops. Trust me."

Henri nodded obediently, but deep in the recesses of his mind, he was formulating a plan. If he saved nearly all his money it shouldn't take him more than a year… And then everything would be just perfect.


End file.
